


Teen Power Inc Fan Fic

by poniesandshoes



Category: Teen Power Inc | Raven Hill Mysteries - Emily Rodda
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-03-06
Updated: 2016-03-06
Packaged: 2018-05-25 02:05:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 20
Words: 15,586
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6176038
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/poniesandshoes/pseuds/poniesandshoes
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>I love the Teen Power Inc books by Emily Rodda SO much. I hope someone out there likes this - let me know if you're reading</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Prologue  
  
** ~ Liz

  
  
TEEN POWER INC.  
  
Five responsible, mature teenagers will tackle any jobs around your house, garden, shop or business. Typing OK, computer OK, children, pets OK. Raven Hill area only. Cheap hourly rate. No job too small. We'll do anything!  
  
It's funny how we forget about things. Homework, birthdays, names; the list goes on; but you'd think that with friends it would be a different story. I mean, you have these people that you grew up with; you shared your lunch with them when they didn't have any, you cried on their shoulders when your life fell apart, maybe you put a couple of big time criminals in jail and fought for your life with these people.  
  
Ok, so that last one probably doesn't happen so often, but when I saw the ad for the job agency my friends and I had started years ago, it's the first thing that came to mind.  
  
I suppose I'm getting ahead of myself though. My name is Liz Free, Elizabeth if you want to get technical. I live with my parents and little brother Pete in Raven Hill; I go to school at Raven Hill High, and work part time as a waitress at the Black Cat Cafe. I'm seventeen, and scarily close to graduating – but this isn't a personal ad, it's an explanation.  
  
You see, it was a Sunday afternoon sometime around the start of December. School would be finishing in a few days, and my mother was on the warpath. I had the day off work and was sitting at my desk finishing up some last minute History homework – the kind that the teachers think up to keep you from thinking it's holidays already.  
  
"Liz, honey, I'm just running up to the shops to get some milk," my mother's voice floated closer as she walked up the hallway to my room, "did you need any...Elizabeth!"  
  
My mother's head of flyaway brown hair poked around the door and her eyes widened, taking in the mess of clothes at the foot of my bed and the pile of craft tools and fabric on my desk.  
  
"Look at this place!" she cried, throwing her arms up, "it's a pigsty! I think it's time for you to stop doing whatever that is and start cleaning, missy"  
  
"But mu-um it's homework!" I groaned, but was secretly pleased - _'it’s homework'_ is pretty much as cast-iron excuse where parents are concerned  
  
Not this time though, my mother put a hand on her hip and pursed her lips, "Don't think you can get out of this, Liz; the second you finish that report I want this mess sorted, understand? And don't think there'll be any TV or phone calls until it's done!"  
  
I opened my mouth to protest, but the look in her eyes stopped me and I just nodded. She strode out down the hall and I heart the front door slam. I chewed my pen cape for a minute then pushed Ancient Greece aside, moving my attention instead to the overflowing 'storage' boxes lining my bedroom wall. I hadn't realised how long ago I had given up on storing things neatly but it looked like it had been years – school books and papers were jumbled on top of one another, pens and pencils, an old teddy bear and a whole lot of shells and gumnuts and knitting wool. I remembered all the times my mother had told me to clean my desk and, in a hurry to go out, I had shoved everything in sight into these boxes. Well, I was sure paying for it now.  
  
An hour in; I had one box sorted, a huge garbage bag at my feet, and a serious case of boredom setting in. That is, until I found it. A huge old scrapbook with glitter letters on the cover spelling out words I hadn't seen in years – Teen Power Inc.  
  
Let me backtrack – Teen Power Inc. was the name we gave to our part time job agency when we were younger. We, of course, being me and my friends at the time; Sunny Chan, Nick Kontellis, Tom Moysten, Richelle Brinkley and Elmo Zimmer. We basically advertised ourselves as a group of energetic teens wanting work – and work we got, mixed in with a healthy dose of mystery and adventure, much to our dismay at times.  
  
I settled down on my bed and cracked the cover – on the first page was a yellowing newspaper clipping – our first ad. The pages that followed were a mixture of newspaper clippings, photographs and random things I had glued down. Pictures of the gang in the Glen, our old hangout, and sitting around a table at Burger Joe's; stories cut out from the Pen and a whole lot of other stuff. Napkins from the Black Cat, a label from Glissant nail polish, a mask that looked suspiciously like it came from Sid's Magic Shop. Memories were pouring back into my mind before I had a chance to stop them, and for the first time in a long time I let myself feel the rush of sadness I always felt when I thought about the gang's breaking up.  
  
Well, not exactly breaking up, I mean, it's not as if we ever had a fight or made the decision to stop Teen Power Inc., it just sort of happened.  
  
Richelle got taller and more beautiful, if that was even possible, and started dating an older boy, a friend of her sister's named Sam; and she got a job at Hot Chix – one of those stores that sell skimpy, glam clothes that are in fashion for about a week and cost a fortune. In short, Richelle got popular – she was never unpopular before but all of a sudden she was hanging out with Lauren King and Kate Wainwright – her fellow 'Hot Chix', and spending her lunch times tanning on the oval and squealing over the football team. She was never mean to me, and we still talked when we ran into each other, but we had definitely drifted apart.  
  
Tom shocked us all by moving away to Banyan Bay – his dad had made him an offer a while before, but he turned it down. Six months after that though, he had a World War 3 style blow-out with his stepfather Brian, and had his bags packed before the dust could settle. Of course, his mother was distraught, but there was no changing his mind. We still chat over the internet of course, but no one from the gang, or anywhere in Raven Hill for that matter, has seen Tom since he was an awkward fourteen-year-old with braces on his teeth and perpetually messy clothes.  
  
Nick left as well, but only to the city, to go to some elite private school – St. Johns Grammar School. Apparently his father had always planned to send Nick somewhere more exclusive when he got a bit older – to prepare him for his exams and successful future. I still saw Nick around sometimes, after all he still lived in Raven Hill, but his new school handed out assignments like they were going out of style and he was working part time for his father as well.  
  
Elmo still worked with his father too, running the Pen, but obviously that meant that he wasn't heading out of Raven Hill anytime soon. In fact, Elmo and I are still pretty good friends – we take the same History and English classes at school, but usually he's finishing up homework at lunchtime and writing small articles in his spare time, so we don't spend a lot of time together. We grab coffee every month or so, just like I do with Sunny.  
  
Sunny stayed in Raven Hill, even though her father offered to take her to America several times a year. She had a good job at the gym, and her sister Cathie just had a baby with her husband Lindsay, so she babysat every Thursday afternoon. Sunny used to be my best friend, but now she spends more time with the other fitness-mad kids around school. They eat salads together and compare jogging times and muscle strains. She calls from time to time, and we smile in the hall, but really, what would we talk about now?  
  
And me?

 

Well I spend most of my time alone, as hard as it is to admit. Sometimes I go to Melanie Grubber's house after we waitress together, but mostly I spend time at home working on craft projects. I'm hoping to make a whole lot of things and have a stall at the Raven Hill Markets sometime soon.  
  
All this to say that Teen Power Inc. is a long faded memory; but for some reason when I flipped through those ancient pictures of our smiling faces, I had a feeling that would change very soon...


	2. Chapter 1 - Tom

**Ch.1  
**  
~ Tom

  
  
The doors of the bus hissed closed behind me as I threw my bag down on an empty seat. Well, all the seats were empty actually and by the looks of the driver he looked like he wished his seat was empty too – and who could blame him! I sure wasn't looking forward to the five hour bus ride to Raven Hill from beautiful, sunny Nuk Nuk. I'd be lying if I said I wasn't beyond nervous - I hadn't been back to Raven Hill in nearly four years, seeing as the last couple of holiday seasons my mum, stepfather and half brothers wanted a holiday on the coast and came to see me in Banyan Bay. Sure, I was nervous to see Brian again, and Adam and Jonathan; but for the last few months – ever since my dad finalized my bus ticket – I've been thinking about the Teen Power gang. From the few MSN conversations I had with Liz, Elmo and Sunny, the gang isn't really a gang at all anymore, and really, I doubt they even remember me. I'm probably just that guy they think about sometimes, the one that told some ok jokes but generally just got on everyone's nerves. Some loss.  
  
I leaned my head on the window, the summer sun feeling incredible on my skin. I could've sketched, after all the scenery was beautiful, or I could have pulled out my iPod and successfully zoned out, but neither of those options really appealed to me. Worrying came easier, and passed the time just as well.  
  
It's crazy to think of just how long after I left Raven Hill that I wanted to go back; it doesn't make much sense really, I mean, there's no denying that I fit in better in Banyan Bay than I ever had in Raven Hill. Not only at school, although the new high school in the Bay is close to a million times better than Raven Hill High for almost every reason, starting with a complete lack of Brian and finishing with the fact that everything is so laid back. But also my home life – living with dad and Faye is almost the complete opposite of living with mum and Brian. We eat whenever we want, and usually in front of the TV, we sleep with the doors open and a sea breeze floating in, and they never lecture me about my looks, my grades or my future. Take today as an example; Brian would never have let me miss a day of class, even if it was to catch a bus to see my family. As much as I get sad sometimes, a lot of the time I think back to my life in Raven Hill and wonder what the big loss was.  
  
I miss the close friendship of the gang though, I mean, it's hard to not be incredibly close to people who went through as much as we did together. Of course I have friends in the Bay, some guys from art class and stuff, but they're mostly just people to sit with at lunch and go to parties with. Then there's this girl – isn't there always – Annie Lane. I work with her at the supermarket in Nuk Nuk on the weekends; I've been trying to get up the courage to ask her out for weeks, but it turns out some jerk with a hotted up car got in before me, so my love life's pretty much as dead as it's ever been.  
  
I guess it's no wonder I feel so lousy sometimes. Sure, I try and cover it up with all my clowning around, but sometimes it just feels like I'll lose my mind if I have to live through one more silent evening of painting in my room while dad watches the news with the volume down and Faye reads some article about god-knows-what. I used to crave a home life so quiet and peaceful, no arguments or little brothers tearing around the house; but I guess all that silence is eating away at me. To tell the truth I haven't painted in months. Not a sketch, not a cartoon; it's like all the imagination leaked out of me. I start my final year of high school next year, and everyone is expecting some great art project – it makes me feel sick. I'd never tell my dad any of this, but it's the real reason I was so keen to visit Raven Hill these holidays. Almost two months in a house with Brian, in a suburb where I'd been long since forgotten, in a state of mind I'd rather avoid.  
  
I must have nodded off somewhere in between my trip down memory lane and my compulsive worrying, because the next thing I knew it was late afternoon and a cool breeze was floating in the now open doors. The driver was turned around in his seat scowling at me.  
  
"Oi, are you deaf boy? We're at the depot, Raven Hill," he rasped, a smokers voice if I ever heard one, "you gotta get off and change to the suburban bus, come on, I got places to be"  
  
I rubbed my eyes and stumbled down the steps, the bus station crowded around me and the butterflies in my stomach going insane. Even the smell of hot chips wafting from the Depot Cafe couldn't make me hungry, which is saying something. I sat down under the peeling 'Raven Hill Route 102' sign and tried to take deep breaths, in and out, in and out...  
  
This was going to be a long holiday.


	3. Chapter 2 - Richelle

**Ch.2  
**   
~ Richelle

  
  
I love my job; don't get me wrong, it's the best. Hot Chix is like the coolest store ever, it has the best clothes and I get like, fifty percent off everything I buy. I know right – awesome! But today I was totally dreading the boppy music and excited girls shopping for something hot to wear. Not because I'm like, turning into a freak or anything. No, it's way worse.  
  
It's all because Sam dumped me, and worse than just leaving me completely single for the summer party season, he didn't even give me a reason; he just said it 'wasn't working out'. My sister Tiffany was thrilled, but then she's always been jealous of me. What's that saying about sisters being supportive? Well whatever, Tiffany is so not like that at all. When I came home crying she just said that she 'told me so' because Sam is 'so much more mature than me anyway' – which is totally untrue. Sam was older than me, sure, but only by a few years, and we always got on so well. Ever since the first day when he picked me up on my paper route I'd been looking forward to Thursdays, our chats over breakfast and then, when we stopped getting breakfast, he'd always call.  
  
Ugh, thinking about it was not helping at all. And it's not like I needed anything else to worry about, not on top of everything else that's going on.  
  
By now I had reached the smoothly rotating doors of the Raven Hill Mall; I fluffed up my hair and checked my shirt – looking hot is a requirement at Hot Chix, obviously. I should have been perking up ready to 'sell, sell, sell' but I just didn't feel perky. It was going to be hard enough not having Sam around, but not having Sam to talk to would be unbearable. He was the only one who knew about...everything that was happening at home.  
  
My grandma had died a few months ago, and ever since it happened my mum had been acting so...weird. She almost never got out of bed and when she did she hardly talked; dad had started coming home from the timber yard early to make dinner to me and my brother Jason, which was definitely getting to him. It's not like we were losing money, but things were getting hard. Tiffany lives away from home at the university so she wasn't around to help, and I work and go to school, so the house has been getting really messy, like overgrown grass and stuff; and mum fired our cleaner, Ms Flower, because she was so embarrassed about never getting out of bed. So now the house is a mess, the yard looks like a jungle, and dad is completely frazzled.  
  
And now I have no one to talk to about it. Everything is sounfair!  
  
The pulsing beats of Hot Chix greeted me as I hung my bag up in the staff area and walked out to the counter. Kate was trying to talk a mother into buying some tiny short shorts for her pleading daughter, and Lauren was straightening up a rack of skirts. They were pretty cute skirts actually, nice and...  
  
"Hey 'Chelle!" Lauren bounded up to me, air kissing my cheek  
  
"Hey Loz," I smiled briefly and leaned against the counter, "we been busy?"  
  
"Nah, hardly," she grinned, lazy afternoons were the best kind  
  
"Ugh, thank god, I cannot handle work today," I moaned  
  
"Not Sam still!" she sighed, resting on the counter next to me, "seriously 'Chelle he wasn't that great"  
  
"He was really boring sometimes," Kate called from behind a rack of super short dresses we'd just got in yesterday, and I noticed that the now crestfallen girl and her mother were leaving, "like when he wanted to talk about like, politics and charity and crap"  
  
"Yeah, he was all...University-tryhard, y'know," Lauren nodded wisely, "you need someone fun, and sexy!"  
  
"Sam was like...Greek-god sexy!" I cried, cupping my chin with my hands, "and we always had fun, like, all the time!"  
  
Kate walked over, "you need to go out and have fun and, like, stop thinking about Sam for more than thirty seconds"  
  
"So much easier said than done," I pouted, stomping over to let some girl with really ugly jeans into the change room. Too bad she only had a shirt in her hand.  
  
"That's what you think!" Lauren smiled at Kate, they had something planned, "but you also have wonderful friends, who are gonna turn a blind eye to you 'borrowing' one of those hot new skirts we just got in"  
  
"And then, we're gonna go to James Keller's party and dance with boys ten times hotter than Sam!" Kate burst out, grinning  
  
I felt my mouth twitch into a smile. James Keller is a guy in my class at school, whose parents happen to be out of town this weekend, so he's holding, like, the biggest end of year party ever!  
  
"I told you she'd be psyched!" Kate clapped her hands, seeing my face  
  
And I was, kind of. They were right; I need to stop thinking about Sam, and my tragic excuse for a family. And maybe I would meet someone new, not that I'd move on that quickly or anything, but any brainless hotty would do for a distraction at the moment.  
  
I broke into a smile and grabbed their arms, "oh my god you guys are right, this is gonna be awesome!"  
  



	4. Chapter 3 - Richelle

**Ch.3  
  
** ~ Nick

  
  
"Yo, Kontellis!"  
  
I was strolling down King St when Tim Warne called out to me. Tim's not a bad guy, he's not a total loser and he's not a conceited ass; he doesn't do better than me in class, but he's not a moron either. I guess you'd say he's just one of those average guys that fade into the background. He caught up with me in a few easy strides – he's a tall guy, Tim.  
  
"Where you headed?" he asked, pulling a bottle of Coke from his bag and taking a swig. He didn't offer me any, that's just not how they do things at St. Johns.  
  
"Work," I said, making sure to show how much I didn't want to be working when summer had officially started  
  
I work with my father, learning the ins and outs of importing, exporting, and making a fortune. I work three hours after school every day, since dad's company is a convenient five minute walk from my inner-city school.  
  
"Dude, that sucks," he laughed, slapping my shoulder, "anyway man, I meant to ask today in math but ol' Gordon was being a real dragon, eh. Do you live in Raven Hill? I heard from Jack Bass that you do"  
  
"Yeah man, why?" I could understand why he was asking, not many St. John's boys live in the suburbs. They're more expensive-beach-front-property types.  
  
"Oh there's apparently some massive party out that way tonight, me and the guys were gonna see if you were going?"  
  
I'd actually only heard about the party the day before, a guy on the Raven Hill bus had been talking about it. Some Raven Hill High kid called James or something.  
  
"Nah, I'm working," I sighed, and it was true. By the time dad and I got home from the office it was time for dinner, then bed.  
  
"Shit dude, that's the pits," he hitched his bad further up his shoulders and handed me his cell phone, "but put your number in here, yeah? I'll give you a ring if we rock up and if you're around we'll swing by your place"  
  
I nodded, typing in my phone number.  
  
"See ya around man," he grinned, and turned back towards the station  
  
I plodded on, suddenly getting angrier and angrier. I couldn't go to a party with people my own age because I was too busy being forced to act like an adult. But I knew what my father would say,  
  
 _"You are almost an adult Nicholas, in a few years you will be working here all of the time; you need to be here learning, not acting like a child. You will thank me one day Nicko"_  
  
I fumed silently as I swiped my employee access card at the door and raised one finger at the smiling receptionist. Maybe I'm sick of imports and exports, of my father's serious face explaining what is important, of seeing what my life will be like for the next forty years if I don't do something about it, and worse, I'm already living it.  
  
The elevator dinged softly and I stepped out on the thirty-sixth floor. My father was on the phone, nodding, smiling and talking as confidently as a used car salesman.  
  
"...yes Mr. Stone, absolutely...yes, by next Thursday at the latest...of course...yes, a pleasure speaking with you also...goodbye," he clicked the receiver down and looked up at me, "Nicholas! How was school?"  
  
I slid my hand into my pocket and pulled out my report card, tossing it gently on his desk, "pretty good"  
  
His eyes slid over the paper, and he nodded slightly. He damn-well should have been nodding, hell, with the sheet of straight A's and praise I'd given him he should have been celebrating.  
  
"Very good Nicko," he smiled, "how about, to celebrate, you and me take off early, your mother will be wanting to celebrate also"  
  
I shifted from one foot to the other, "actually, dad, I was going to ask if I could have today off..."  
  
His face changed, but I kept going, "it's the last day of term and a friend of mine is having some friends over, I was hoping I could go?"  
  
The silence stretched on so long that I almost caved and told him not to worry about it, but finally he spoke, folding the paper in his hands and avoiding my eyes.  
  
"Nicholas, in the real world, you do not get to just 'have a day off' because you are celebrating," his voice was stern and I felt myself staring at my feet, "however, this report is very good, Nicko, and for that, you may go. But know that this is a onetime deal, and I do not want you asking every week"  
  
His face was serious and I nodded shortly, turning around just in time to hide the uncontrollable ear to ear smile. I walked slowly to the lift, and made sure to keep my pace even across the reception area; but the moment the doors to the building shut behind me I pretty much ran to the train station, feeling younger than I had in months.


	5. Chapter 4 - Sunny

**Ch.4**  
  
~Sunny

  
  
You know those times in your life when you really need something that you've lost or forgotten? Like, when it rains and you leave your umbrella at home; or when the cafeteria finally brings back that awesome blue flavoured sports drink after six months, you lose your only dollar on the way to school.  
  
That always happens to me; but this time, I need Liz.  
  
Ever since I can remember, Liz has been the one I lean on. Sure, we may not spend a lot of time together, and I don't often need to do a lot of leaning, but she's still the first person I want to call when I need someone to be there for me.  
  
It's the last day of school, and I've been waiting at the front entrance for about twenty minutes. The mad rush of students leaping into six weeks of freedom ended pretty much while the bell was ringing, and so far I haven't seen her. Typical.  
  
I finish my stretching – it's never good to stand still and wait – and pick up my bag. Of course Liz isn't here, now that I need her. Serves me right for not calling her more this year. I fish out my phone and dial the Free family's number, kicking myself for not thinking to call earlier.  
  
"Oh Sunny, dear, I'm sorry but Elizabeth has some serious cleaning to do before I'm letting her out of this house for whatever party it is you kids are going to" Liz's mother shouted, obviously directing the comment more at Liz than at me, "but I'll be sure to get her to call you back!"  
  
I thanked her, hung up, and leaned heavily against the brick wall. Sometimes I wish I could unplug my own brain.  
  
Here's the thing – boys like me. I'm not horrible looking, but I think it's more that I'm not prissy – I play basketball with them, I'll chug a beer, I watch the football (and shout abuse at the umpire). All of this combined with the fact that I brush my hair and have a decent body seems to make me some kind of superwoman (not blowing my own horn here, I've actually asked my male friends about this).  
  
But here's the other thing – when the boys used to ask me out, I'd say yes, we'd have a few good dates and become an item at school – all that crap. Then I'd start to realize I had no time; I had schoolwork to do, chores at home, babysitting for my sister, and then all the things I wanted to do, like tai-kwon-do and yoga. I didn't want to have to deal with someone else's needs and wants on top of that. So I'd break up with them, for their own good, and carry on with my life.  
  
Just today one of my closest friends asked me to see a movie with him these holidays. Peter Lincoln - he's a track runner and he always listens when I talk. I was two seconds from saying yes, but then I said no. These holidays I want to focus on training for my Gym Competition, on maybe doing some laps at the pool, on studying for Year Twelve. I wouldn't have time for him.  
  
I'm too selfish for a relationship. For love.  
  
Like my father.  
  
And I don't want to change who I am and what I do, so I'll end up alone.  
  
Like my mother.  
  
It just makes my head pound. I need Liz to talk to, to take my thoughts and hang on to them for a while. I know I appear to be such a calm person, but sometimes I wish I could be hysterical like other girls are; have a good scream, a ridiculous cry or just a sulk.  
  
I wish I could just not be me sometimes.  
  
  



	6. Chapter 5 - Elmo

**Ch.5**  
  
~Elmo

  
  
With school finished for the year, I should have been rushing back to the Pen office, after all, there was editing to be done and stories to be finished. For some reason, though, I really wasn't in the mood. Maybe I was burnt out after a long year of essays and assignments, maybe I was just tired, but whatever the reason, it saw me walking slowly through the heart of Raven Hill on the last Friday of term. Neon lights were flickering on above shops even though the sun had just started setting, and families were standing together, deciding what to order to dinner, or what movie to rent out.  
  
Moments like that always make me miss my own mother. Not to say that my dad, Zim, isn't a great father and it's not like I'm missing anything really; but just the feeling of being part of a family, something solid and whole, not open and missing a part, would be nice. No awkward looks on Mother's Day, someone to talk to when I'm worried that dad is stressing himself out with the paper; you know, those kinds of things. Of course, I stopped feeling sorry for myself soon enough, after all, if I was the self-sympathy type I'd never get anywhere – there's enough for red headed misfits to be unhappy about without dwelling the lack of a two parent household. Instead I pulled some crumpled notes from my pocket and headed over to the fish and chip shop.  
  
I was tossing up between battered barramundi and calamari, when my phone rang.  
  
"Elmo! I'm so glad I caught you" Liz's friendly voice echoed through the speaker, "how've you been anyway?"  
  
I smiled; hearing from Liz always makes me happy. Too bad it doesn't happen more often.  
  
"Oh, y'know, alright" I shrugged, "what's up?"  
  
"I just called Sunny, and she seems really down," she sighed, "but she wouldn't talk to me about it in the end, which was kind of weird, but anyway – me and her are going to James' party tonight, and I thought you'd like to come with us"  
  
I didn't say anything. On one hand, I knew Liz hated parties almost as much as I did and she probably wanted someone to talk to; but on the other hand, I always feel so awkward and out of place at that kind of thing.  
  
"I don't know..." I began, but she jumped in  
  
"Not for long or anything, Elmo. Like, we could just stop in and have a few drinks or whatever. Y'know, see what everyone's doing" her voice sounded almost desparate  
  
"Um...sure, I guess," I ran my fingers through my hair, "want me to pick you guys up or something?"  
  
I felt panic set in as Liz rattled off her thankyous, her plans for the night and said goodbye. I hate parties. I always end up sipping some horrible too-strong drink, while some girl who appears perfectly intelligent in class falls all over me, bemoaning her many life problems. And occasionally asking me to 'make out' with her because she thinks I'm 'so, so nice'.  
  
I snapped out an order for hot chips, feeling immediately guilty for frowning at the young girl behind the counter.

God. Summer break – you can have it.


	7. Chapter 6 - Tom

**Ch.6**  
  
~ Tom  
  
  


  
"Oh my god, Thomas!" my mother shrieked and abandoned the pot she had been stirring; running across the kitchen, standing on her tip toes to hug me around my neck  
  
I heard toys being thrown down and moments later, Adam and Jonathan were tearing down the hallway shouting, no doubt bringing me moments closer to a Brian-lecture about over-exciting the children so close to bed-time.  
  
Whatever.  
  
"Hey weirdos!” I grin, crouching down to ruffle their hair as mum runs back to stop dinner burning  
  
"Didya bring us presents?" Adam squeals  
  
I laugh, "What would I bring you? Sand?"  
  
"A DOLPHIN!" Jonathan shrieks  
  
"Aren't you two in like…third grade now?" I tease, "Shouldn't you be asking for cars, or girls?"  
  
"Ew," Adam made a face  
  
"Yeah girls are gross," Jonathan piped up, "we ain't ever getting cooties"  
  
I could feel the smile splitting my face. I didn't realize how good it would feel to be home.  
  
~ Rewind half an hour…  
  
I got off the bus at the Raven Hill Mall, doors hissing shut behind me, ancient motor dragging away down the road. The streetlights had just come on and the air was warm – I had just pulled out my headphones for the walk home when I saw someone leaning against the front window of the mall Supermarket eating hot chips out of a paper bag and frowning intensely, red eyebrows furrowed in frustration, and wiping grease on his shirt.  
  
Elmo Zimmer. Who else?  
  
It was a shock to see him, I can't lie. I mean, I'm in town for what…all of five minutes and I already get hit with a blast from the past? Of course, it took me about twenty seconds to realize that he looked exactly the same as he did when I moved away , and then all I could really do was laugh.  
  
"Holy…Tom Moysten?" I hear Elmo's voice, incredulous, as I stroll over  
  
"The one and only, man" I smile and throw my arm out for a lazy handshake  
  
"What are you doing here!" Elmo is practically ripping his hair out, "I can't believe this!"  
  
"I’m visiting, for the summer," I explain, "gotta tell you though, it is weird"  
  
We fall into step, walking in the direction of my house, and the Pen office.  
  
He gave a low whistle, "I bet it is – how do you feel about…y'know, seeing Brian again?"  
  
I shrug and kick a pebble, staring at my shoes, "Same as always I guess, but it's ok now really, we don't fight and all that"  
  
He nodded, and I remember why I always liked Elmo. He really listens, you can always tell.  
  
Suddenly he stops, claps his hands together and turns to me with his same old intense expression, "Hey Tom, how do you feel about coming to a party tonight?"  
  
I raise my eyebrows, but he cuts me off before I can say anything, "I'm not, you know, excited to go or anything, but Liz invited me and we could catch up, you could see everyone. That kind of thing."  
  
"Liz? Man, I haven't seen her in a while," I say, imagining seeing the gang again, "sure – but mum will probably want me to have dinner with the family and all that first"  
  
Elmo nodded seriously, "yeah of course, sure; I have to go get ready and pick the girls up, but I'll swing by yours in maybe…an hour or so?"  
  
"Sounds good," I slap my hand on his shoulder and head in the direction of my street, "seeya soon"  
  
I saunter off towards home, mindfully keeping my steps calm.  
  
My mind was racing.  
  
~ …and back to now  
  
After dinner Mum and the kids put a movie on while Brian washed the dishes. I sat in my old room; the re-furbished garden shed, and breathed in the smell of the bleach that had been used to clean the place up before I arrived. The smell of someone anticipating me being around. I unpacked my bag into the empty drawers and lay down on the familiar old mattress – the soft noises of Adam and Jonathan screeching about cartoon characters, the clink of plates in the sink, Mum and Brian's low conversation.  
  
Neither of them had seemed to mind when I said I was heading out for the night, and without the stress of an impending argument, I was free to stress about seeing the gang again. I had been so long since I'd been physically around them that I had myself worked into a complete state in a matter of minutes.  
  
~ Rewind three years or so  
  
I crunched up the front walk of the Chan residence, palms sweating, chest tight. Tapped three times on the door and waited. I noticed my shoelaces were untied; my jeans had tomato sauce on the thigh. I thought about running and coming back later, but I could already hear footsteps in the hall.  
  
Besides, I reminded myself, Sunny's cool, she doesn't care about that kind of thing.  
  
The door opened and she was standing there – Sunny – in a soft pair of jeans and a Raven Hill Gym singlet, her hair long and loose down her back.  
  
"Tom!" she beamed, "what's up?"  
  
I tried to smile back, but it got lost somewhere around the lump in my throat.  
  
"I'm leaving" I choked out, "Dad's waiting just down the road. I've been packing all day"  
  
Her face changed instantly, "what? Leaving? Why?"  
  
I pushed up the sleeves of my jumper and showed her the fresh bruises, spidering out, a painful reminder of Brian's grip the night before.  
  
"Brian" I muttered  
  
Sunny knew, that's the thing, she was the only one I'd told about Brian's anger, his sudden snapping temper and the way I always found myself at the wrong end of it. I knew it was breaking my family apart; my mums face when Brian would snap at me over dinner, the way Adam and Jonathan had started playing quietly in their room so that they didn't annoy their dad.  
  
It put a blanket over the house.  
  
I knew it was just normal, the result of endless tension between us. He wasn't a bad man, or a drunk. We just needed distance, and now he was getting it.  
  
I think Sunny knew that too, and when I pulled my jumper sleeve down she was nodding slowly, fingers twisting in her pockets.  
  
"I would have got the gang together, but Liz would get upset, and I didn't want to cause a fuss…" I stammered, "I knew you'd be…cool"  
  
She gave a weak smile, her eyes boring straight into me.  
  
I fidgeted on the porch for a moment, and a horn beeped. Dad.  
  
"Can you, um, tell them all?" I asked, and she nodded, still silent. I sighed, "Bye, Sunny."  
  
I turned and nearly jogged out the gate; eyes burning, the sting of loss stronger than I'd expected it to be.  
  
~ …and back to now  
  
I pull on a clean shirt, fix my hair, brush my teeth – my nerves electric in every muscle. I hear the sputter of a not-too-great engine and jog around the side of the house to Elmo's beat up Camry. He is sitting alone at the wheel, some weird indie acoustic music blaring on the stereo.  
  
"Hey" he grins, he's wearing a pressed and buttoned shirt and I am struck by the fact that maybe he has grown up since I moved.  
  
Maybe they've all grown up.  
  
"Ready to get the girls?" he asks as I slide in and pull on my seat-belt.  
  
I grin, hoping my nerves don't show, "Ready."  
  
Set. Go. We pull away from the curb toward the other end of Raven Hill.  
  
Sunny.  
  
  


  
  



	8. Chapter 7 - Richelle

**Ch. 7**  
  
~ Richelle

  
  
"Oh my GOD 'Chelley you look AMAZING!" Lauren screamed, moving her arms too fast and spilling vodka down her leg and bursting into hysterical laughter  
  
I turned in front of the mirror, checking myself from every angle. I looked totally hot!  
  
We were all at Lauren's house getting ready for the party, our lift still a good hour away from arriving.  
By ready, I mean sexy. And drunk.  
  
Kate had ended up 'borrowing' one of the slinkiest black dresses we sell at Hot Chix for me; my hair was fluffy and blonder than ever, and my shoes were killer.  
  
Sam would die if he saw me!  
  
At that thought, I couldn't help but smile to myself. I felt so ready to get over Sam, nothing serious obviously, but a nice guy to hang out with over summer. I mean, I have a New Years kiss to think about, not to mention some seriously hot bikinis that still have the tags on them. What a total waste if I don't have some stud to model them for!  
  
So…I look about twenty-five and sooo sophisticated, my best friends are total babes, and I am single and obviously ready to mingle!  
  
"Ohh my gosh!" I squeal, turning back to Lauren and Kate, "This is going to be awesome!"  
  
"Honey you are preaching to the…" Kate slurred between giggles, stopping and looking confused, "um…to us!"  
  
"Oh my god you are so smashed Katie!" I laughed  
  
Kate nodded before trying to stand up, swaying a little and grabbing my arm for balance. She took a bottle of vodka from her parents bar and stood – a little unsteadily – on the neat blue couch.  
  
"Ladies!" she yelled, "ladies, put your drinks down! No, seriously Lauren, put it down!"  
  
Lauren and eye snickered at one another, placing our vodka soda mixers on the coffee table.  
  
"Thank you!" Kate saluted us, almost falling on her face in the process, "now, ladies, it is the start of summer and we have got a mission! We are going to make 'Chelley, my darling friend Richelle, forget what a total asshole Sam was, and we are going to get her…"  
  
"…Naked with a college guy!" Lauren interrupted, and the two of them whooped enthusiastically  
  
"You guys!" I laugh, mortified, "oh my god"  
  
"But more than that," Kate's voice took on the type of serious tone that only a very drunk person can muster, "tonight, is about us – I love you girls!"  
  
"Aww Katie!" Lauren and I squealed, and Lauren jumped down to join us  
  
"May the rest of our lives be fantastic!" Kate cheered, cracking the lid on the Vodka, "now…SHOTS!"  
  
I grinned, letting Kate fill my glass. This was definitely the life – all my problems felt a million years away. Forget my mum and her depression, forget my stupid falling-apart family, and totally forget Sam. Things are totally about to get better.  
  
Burning liquid rushed down my throat and the three of us coughed, still giggling. Before I'd even recovered my glass was full again, a warm haze settling over my head, making everything that much funnier.  
  
Bring on the night!  
  



	9. Chapter 8 - Sunny

**Ch. 8**  
  
~ Sunny

  
  
I've always been the odd one out in my family. Being one of five girls, everyone assumes that I'd be exactly like my sisters – so well versed in self-maintenance and shopping that I could write a thesis on the topic, and a total chatterbox. Sometimes I even feel like people are disappointed when they learn that I'm the opposite – I know I've copped more than a few sighs from random girls who; obsessed with the legacy of the hot, funny, in-demand Chan sisters, had been hoping to make friends with the youngest instalment.  
  
They always seem shocked when they realize that the pony-tail and gym shorts are not some trendy front, but who I actually am.  
  
Crazy, right?  
  
Sometimes, though, I wish I'd inherited a bit more of whoever it is they all take after. Sometimes, I wish I could talk about my feelings like other girls do – lots of squealing and tears and honesty. I hate myself sometimes because I just don't work like that.  
  
Take right now for instance; I called Liz after school, really needing to talk, and can I talk? I absolutely can't, at least not about anything other than the Gym, how work is going, how school is going, and what she's doing for the holidays.  
  
What I really want to ask her is why didn't Peter Lincoln pursue me when I said no? Why did he just shrug and give me that cute smile and tell me to "ok, well, take care Sunny"?   
Why couldn't I say yes, like anyone else would have? Why do I fill my days with so many things that I can't seem to make even the slightest bit of time for a relationship, or even a close friendship?  
  
It's not like I don't like my life; I mean, sports are like air to me, I don't know who I'd be without them – but sometimes I just want to throw myself down on my bed and cry and pout and be a girl so badly it almost hurts.  
  
But here in Liz's room, that all just seems ridiculous. For one, I hardly even talk to Liz these days, and for two, it's not like I can bring myself to say what's on my mind, no matter how understanding she'd be.  
  
The door banged open, stopping me mid-thought, and Liz bustled in holding the pizza we'd chosen earlier. Down the hallway I could hear Mrs. Free telling Liz's brother Pete that he could only have one glass of Coke with his dinner, so he'd better make it last.  
  
That's another thing I'd forgotten – Liz's family is so normal it's almost scary.  
  
"So!" Liz smiles, throwing herself down next to me on the bed, "what are you gonna wear tonight? Because I really don't know. Parties make me so nervous!"  
  
"Don't worry, you'll look fine," I say, reassuring her so easy and familiar  
  
She gives me a nervous half-smile and takes a slice of pizza.  
  
"So…um…are you, y'know, ok?" she asks cautiously, continuing hurriedly when I don't answer straight away, "I just mean because…you don't really call me…or come over and, well, here you are"  
  
I chew my slice of double cheese quietly, trying to work out how to say…anything really.  
  
"I just thought maybe something happened, like with your family or something," Liz explained  
  
I shook my head, "no, I'm ok. Everything's ok"  
  
More silence, stretching on while we nibbled shyly. Weird how easy it is for a friendship to end, and how hard it is to start.  
  
She jumps up, grabbing a dress from her overflowing wardrobe and holding it up with a smile.  
  
"What do you think of this?" she asks, "I mean, for tonight."  
  
The dress is short and vintage looking, covered in an antique floral print. The thing about Liz, is that she was op-shopping before everyone else decided it was the coolest thing around – she doesn't seem to realize it, but she has some of the best clothes in Raven Hill.  
  
I'm not entirely unfeminine, even I notice things like that (not that I would ever wear a floral dress, vintage or not).  
  
"It's awesome" I grin; she beams back at me and for a moment I think that maybe (hopefully) being friends again won't be so hard.

  
  



	10. Chapter 9 - Nick

**Ch. 9**  
  
~ Nick

  
  
Only half an hour after jumping the first train back to Raven Hill, I was trying to get my hair to look just right, and trying to ignore my mother hovering around in the hallway. First, she had been putting towels away, then she vacuumed the skirting boards, and now she was just pacing, occasionally muttering to herself. I put the comb down and opened the bathroom door.  
  
"Ma," I started and she stopped, looking at me guiltily, "what are you doing"  
  
"Nicko!" she scolded; her voice a little too forced, "what are you saying? I am just cleaning!"  
  
"Ma, you're walking around the hallway" I said bluntly  
  
"Nonsense!" she snorted, then stopped and looked at me worriedly, "just, you be careful tonight, ok Nicko? No drugs or drink driving! I know you are eighteen now, but you are still in school ok? You still fry your brain with all this partying!"  
  
All this partying – all one party I've attended since starting at St. John's Grammar.  
  
"Ma, c'mon, you know me" I smiled, putting a comforting arm on her shoulder, "I'll be good, I'm always good"  
  
And I am; that's the thing. I'm like a model for Greek _fucking_ Child of the Year Magazine. I get good grades, I work for my dad in a good White Collar job, I have Nice Private School Friends, and I've only ever bought home Nice Private School girls. Sometimes I have secret fantasies of getting a tattoo, dropping out of school and getting a job as a builder or something. Not that I should complain, I'm not hard done by – quite the opposite obviously – but sometimes my life just drives me insane. It's like I can feel myself getting older every time I walk through the turnstiles at the train station, or sign an email with 'Kind Regards, Nicholas Kontellis'.  
  
I mean, I'm eighteen for god's sake, I should be 'Nick' or 'hey dude, pass us a beer', or 'Nick, why did you get drunk and crash your car'. I'm so sick of my dad's proud smile and my mums approving hand on my arm at dinner, I'm sick of hanging out with the guys at school and not having stories to share. I shouldn't have to convince the man who, for all intents and purposes is my boss, to let me go to a party on the last day of term.  
  
Sometimes it makes me so mad I could spit.  
  
I took some deep breaths to calm down – too much thinking can get you worked up. Telling Ma to go watch some TV, I shut my bedroom door softly, enjoying the silence – my own anticipation – and focused on finding something to wear.  
  
I was tossing up between about twenty-five shirts (being the son of a rich Greek business man is not entirely without perks, obviously) when my phone buzzed on the desk.  
  
"Hello?" I picked it up, wedging it between my ear and shoulder as I pulled on clean jeans  
  
"Yo, Kontellis!" Tim shouted back, the background noise of a car making it almost impossible to hear, "You ditch work or what?"  
  
"Yeah man, I did" I grinned, even though I was alone in my room  
  
"Sick! We're halfway to Raven Hill, so we'll swing by your place – Dave's driving and Simon's here too but he bought his ball and chain," he laughed and I heard a muffled female voice objecting to this  
  
"All good," I said, "when you guys getting here?"  
  
"Give us twenty, yeah?" he shouted, "We're gonna stop off and buy some drinks – scotch whiskey man"  
  
Of course. St John's Grammar boys do not drink beer.  
  
We said goodbye and hung up. I pulled on a clean white singlet and what I figured is the least corporate shirt in my collection – dark grey, rolled up sleeves, buttoned half way.  
  
Hey, I've got a fairly decent body.  
  
When I was finally happy with my hair, I jumped downstairs and found Ma in the kitchen, stirring dinner. After reassuring her that I would grab a burger on the way, I kissed her on the cheek and headed out the front, grabbing a bottle of bourbon from Dad's bar as I crossed the loungeroom.  
  
He wouldn't even notice it was gone, and hey, I'm too much of a good son to steal my parent's alcohol.  
  
The car pulled up five minutes later – it was Dave Mather's sleek silver BMW, and it fit right in with the rest of the Luxury Car Yard on our street. My distaste for rich people – for my parents – lasted only as long as it took me to open the door and slide in on the cool leather. The smell of smoke – not all tobacco, either – filled my nose instantly and I was acutely aware of Simon's girlfriend, Lacey, pressing her bare thighs against my knee. Tim reached around from the front seat and gave me one of those half high-five, half handshake's that I'd never completely understood.  
  
"Nick!" he grinned in greeting, breath strong with alcohol, "You keen?"  
  
I nodded, unscrewing the lid on my bottle and taking a swig.  
  
Fuck. Strong stuff.  
  
"Very" I nodded, making sure to keep my voice steady. Not being able to handle your alcohol is very uncool  
  
"I was just telling Dave that we are going to get some fine bitches at this shindig" he slurred, and I couldn't help agreeing with him. A girl would be nice – they're always a distraction from life for a while. Weird how nice smelling hair and a great smile can have such a huge effect.  
  
"Yeah too bad Simo's gonna be ladysitting all night," Dave teased, and I wondered if he was entirely sober  
  
"Whatever, asshole," Simon shot back, "don't be jealous because I get some"  
  
"Yeah Davey, don't be jealous," Lacey echoed, teasing, a smoke hanging loosely between her fingers and a can of whatever it is girls drink wedged between her legs  
  
I liked Lacey, she wasn't complicated. She was fun, she liked to party, and she didn't cause drama. Simon was lucky, not that I'd ever say that out loud. I needed something uncomplicated.  
  
Dave turned the stereo up, the bottles started circulating, and Tim pulled out a pipe 'for a little buzz'.  
  
This is what being young is about.


	11. Chapter 10 - Liz

**Ch. 10**  
  
~ Liz

  
  
In every person's life, there are probably hundreds of events that really matter, you know, really change a person. I've read tons of books about the human psyche – I think it's so fascinating that every little thing that happens could send us on a completely new life path. I mean, I could be a cheerleader or a total burn-out or even homeless if one thing in my life had happened differently.  
  
This is the kind of philosophy that I apply to Sunny.  
  
Sunny was my best friend before I even knew what the term 'best friend' really meant. We stuck together through primary school, through her dad moving away and my parents driving me crazy with their over protectiveness. We were together through everything that happened with Teen Power Inc.; and now, we were together in my bedroom all these years later. That seems like a fairly amazing series of events, when you really think about it.  
  
She was standing in front of my mirror brushing her hair; wearing a nice pair of black jeans and one of my favourite lacy vintage cami singlets, which I had forced on her after seeing that she was planning to wear a plain t-shirt. I'm no fashion obsessive, but it's an end of term party, not a coffee and movie.  
  
Now, on the topic of life changing events; I don't think there was any reason that Sunny started wearing her hair long and loose, or buying nicely cut jeans from shops other than K-Mart. I think she just grew up. Everyone had grown up since the days of Teen Power – since the days of roller-skating and going to Burger Joe's for a fairly sophisticated dinner. We were all so different, and –  
  
My phone shrilled, shaking me out of my nostalgic daze. A message from Elmo flashed on the screen – Elmo, of course, being far too polite to just beep the horn when he was outside.  
  
"Time to go?" Sunny asked, walking back over to the bed and shoving a jacket in her bag  
  
I nodded, grabbing my favourite beaded satchel and slipping on some sandals. The whole day had that 'start of summer' feeling, and I knew the night would be warm as well.  
  
After writing my number, Sunny's number, and the address of the party on a note for mum to stick on the fridge (just in case!) we finally escaped and jogged down the path to the car. Elmo was sitting at the wheel, showing some guy with shaggy brown hair something on his iPod. Probably someone from Chess club, but still, it's unusual for Elmo to bring a friend to anything.  
  
I cautiously opened the door and ducked in, landing in my seat at the exact time Sunny landed in hers.  
  
"Hey girls," the guy turned around, and the first thing I noticed about him was that he was tall – his head nearly scraped the sagging roof of the Camry. He was also handsome – straight white teeth, tanned skin, scruffy brown hair and a crisp white shirt casually thrown over baggy shorts and flip-flops.  
  
The second thing I noticed was that he was Tom.  
  
I heard Sunny gasp, but only softly. Her eyes guarded, face inexpressive. Tom's smile was wide, but there was worry behind it – uncertainty and apologies.  
  
Like, 'sorry I left'; maybe 'sorry I hardly called', and probably a bit of 'sorry I'm here now, ruining tonight for you'.  
  
As I said, big moments are fairly common, when you think about it – and for Sunny, Tom was an event.  
  
I never knew exactly what it was that Sunny felt for Tom – strong friendship, a connection of common interests, like, love – I didn't have a clue. I never really had a clue when it came to feelings with Sunny. But I did have a feeling; call it 'best friend instinct' or whatever, but I could see the loss in her face when she told me – ever so matter-of-factly – that he was gone.  
  
Back in the car, I realized that the silence had stretched a good minute or so, and I knew I had to jump in.  
  
"Elmo!" I exclaimed, wincing as my voice came out far higher than it should have, "I love this song! Turn it up!"  
  
Unfortunately, it was a horrible underground 'hit' featuring a gruff voice reciting poetry about lost love over sad violin music.  
  
Tom snorted, holding back a laugh, and Elmo wrinkled his eyebrows.  
  
"Hey!" he objected, "I really do love this song! It's deep!"  
  
He started the car, the voice reaching a crescendo, spitting words and making the speakers crackle. Sunny still hadn't said a word.  
  
A five minute drive to the party suddenly seemed like an eternity.  
  
  



	12. Chapter 11 - Elmo

**Ch. 11**  
  
~ Elmo

  
  
The minute we pulled into James Keller's street I remembered exactly how much I hated parties. James' house was easy to spot – the walls were shaking, lights all on and music thumping so loudly we could hear it at the end of the road. Cars were parked all over the yard and on the front lawns of neighbouring houses. I pulled up a few houses down, making sure to angle myself so I wouldn't get parked in later. After five minutes of Liz talking non-stop to cover up the awkwardness between Sunny and Tom I didn't know how long I could handle some amateur DJ playing the top forty.  
  
We walked cautiously up the front path, dodging discarded bottles and paper cups seeping liquid everywhere. Some streamers hung limply over the bushes next to the door – which was swinging open and emblazoned with a RAVEN HILL RAVENS! sticker – and something bearing a disgusting resemblance to vomit was sprayed below the doorbell.  
  
"Lizzie?" a moan coming from the bushes just about made my heart stop.  
  
We all looked down as a head of tangled brown hair fell out of Mrs. Keller's prize ferns. The girl, who I recognised from school as Melanie Grubber -looked up at us, her eyes half closed, mascara running down her face.  
  
God. I hate drunk girls.  
  
"Melanie!" Liz gasped, clearly surprised by her friends appearance, "what happened?"  
  
"Idunnodrunktoomany" the girl mumbled, walking forward and falling onto Liz's shoulder  
  
Liz sighed and turned to the rest of us, "I'm gonna call her mum – I know the number"  
  
At the word 'mum' Melanie made some kind of incoherent protest, although she was completely ignored.  
  
"I'll just wait down by the car, ok? I'll meet you inside in ten," Liz sighed again; clearly frustrated at already having to be a mother hen, and started hobbling off toward the road holding Melanie upright  
  
Tom took this moment to ask Sunny if he could have word with her alone, and they walked across the yard to the a giant old oak tree that appeared to be temporarily growing a pair of underwear and three silver wine casks.  
  
I stood at the door, mentally cursing myself for ever agreeing when Liz called. I considered going home, but then realized that Liz would be handing Melanie over to her parents and then coming inside. I should at least try to make myself look like a normal, social teenager.  
  
I stepped inside.  
  
  



	13. Chapter 12 - Sunny

**Ch. 12**  
  
~ Sunny

  
  
I think I was still in a daze when Tom leaned in close to my ear and muttered, "Can we talk somewhere, alone?"  
  
I'd nodded, and we strolled away from Elmo, away from the noise of the party – only slightly, mind you – to a huge tree in the corner of the yard. The wind blowing was so warm and I couldn't help but stare at him – he looked so good and so grown up. Long hair, no more braces, a trendy hemp sign necklace on a rope and the relaxed way he held himself. It was like I had a rock in my stomach, being so close to him after all this time.  
  
"Are we…ok?" he asked after a while, his face concerned  
  
Like he expected to show up and I'd be exactly who I used to be. Like we could just pick up a conversation and laugh like we did when we were fourteen. Like I'd feel the same. Like I'd just be waiting here for him.  
  
My stomach lurched as I realized I thought the same things about my father. I must be so goddam easy to leave and I'm apparently so goddam hard to like.  
  
Times like this make me wish I didn't care about my body so much, or have any competitions to compete in so I could join the likes of Melanie Grubber and get absolutely trashed.  
  
Looking back up at Tom, I kept my breathing even, not giving anything away.  
  
"Yeah," I smiled briefly, "we're fine. I'll see you inside ok?"  
  
I turned and walked quickly away, ignoring his half-assed attempt to call after me. I rounded the corner of the house - which was surprisingly deserted – and leant on the cool brick wall. The punched-in-the-guts feeling throbbed through me. Maybe I'm one of those people who never shows their emotions, then ends up crazy and alone, spending twelve hours a day completing triathlons and eating nothing but raw eggs. What is wrong with me?  
  
I can't stop these thoughts, racing around my head like bullets, making my whole body ache.  
  
Tom didn't abandon me; he had to leave, to get away from his family.  
  
But he hardly called, he hardly emailed. He just forgot me. Like my dad.  
  
Everything was circling, seemingly interconnected. I leant forward and threw up on the grass, breathing fast.  
  
This is ridiculous.  
  
Sinking down against the wall of the house, I took deep breaths, calming my body. Relaxation is like second nature to me – why did I lose my head? Slowly, the world returned to normal, the noise of the party suddenly louder. I got up and went to find Liz.


	14. Chapter 13 - Richelle

**Ch. 13**  
  
~ Richelle

  
  
Not even an hour after I stumbled out of Lauren's front door; totally not planning to drink again until I sobered up a bit, I was in the middle of a shot contest with some skank from out of town. I don't really know how it happened, but a whole bunch of hot football players were backing me, shouting something about wiping out the 'City Cats'. Can't complain about hot footballers!  
  
I poured another shot; vaguely noticing that the entire bottle of Midori was almost empty, and drank it quickly. I'm fairly sure I hardly even made a face, which is more than I can say for the other girl (City Skank? I don't know, whatever though) She took one more shot, dropped the glass and ran out the back door. The footy players all cheered, and someone slapped a yellow RAVEN HILL RAVENS! bumper sticker on my chest and handed me a Cruiser.  
  
I am such a party queen!  
  
Kate came stumbling over to me, her shirt slipping off one shoulder.  
  
"Let's dance 'Chelley!" she screamed and grabbed my hand, leading to where the music was loudest – I think the dining room, judging by the huge round table and boom-box set up on the mantelpiece  
  
It half registered in my head that I could hardly walk, and that everyone around me was a huge blur, and that I kind of remembered Lauren getting dared to take her underwear off and throw them in a tree earlier and _why_ was Lauren passed out on a beanbag in the hallway?  
  
"Oh my god Katie!" I laughed, "I'm, like, trashed!"  
  
I don't think she heard me because she was dancing with some totally fine guy that I think graduated like, two years ago. Whatever. I started getting into the music, feeling a hand on my leg and a muscly guy in a jacket behind me. Mmmm…  
  
"Hey" I slurred, turning around, "sup?"  
  
I couldn't really see his face, but he had a Raven Hill Ravens hat on, and some sexy stubble. I grabbed his shoulders and took a long swig of my drink as some song about putting your hands up came on  
  
Kate winked at me, and we threw our arms up, drinks spilling everywhere.  
  
"Fuck yeah!" we screamed, laughing hysterically as the beat picked up and the boys danced closer  
  



	15. Chapter 14 - Tom

**Ch. 14**  
  
~ Tom

  
  
At fourteen, I was not the kind of guy that girls wanted to date. I was more of the 'loveable brother' type – fun to hang around, but not so fun to be seen at the movies with, or making out with at school. I was always too tall for my age, towering clumsily above the other guys at school; and with braces on my teeth and perpetually messy hair (and clothes come to think of it) I didn't stand much of a chance getting dates.  
  
Not that I was particularly interested, I mean, most of the girls at Raven Hill High were about as interesting as documentary films. And anyway, back in those days I was busy with Teen Power Inc. and my art.  
  
As I walked through the party, I started to realize how different things were now. Girls were looking at me, giving me that appreciative tip of the eyebrow I'd started seeing in Banyan Bay. As much as I was kind of used to it, it felt weird being home in Raven Hill and being a different person. These people didn't even recognise me.  
  
"Hey," a brunette with a deep tan and a very low cut singlet moved in front of me, "wanna come…"  
  
She trailed off and mimed pulling a joint with her thumb and forefinger.  
  
Maybe the Tom that Sunny and Liz knew would have said no and walked off, but then again, the Tom they knew wasn't really around anymore. That Tom was always able to defuse an awkward situation between friends; that Tom could always coax a calm smile from Liz and always make Elmo lighten up. That Tom had been in some adolescent version of love with Sunny. The whole bus ride to Raven Hill I'd been worried the gang had forgotten me – I never even considered that there was an alternative worse than being forgotten.  
  
That maybe I'd changed, and I couldn't just slide back into the hole I left in this town. Maybe I'd outgrown that person. What was I doing, coming back and making Sunny uncomfortable? Making Elmo feel like he had to include me? Making Liz deal with everyone else's conflict like she always did?  
  
Maybe it was time to make some new friends for the summer.  
  
I nodded at the girl and she beamed, grabbing my hand lightly and leading me through the crowd to a door at the end of the hall. She pushed it open to reveal a bunch of Raven Hill High kids – most of them I vaguely recognised – sitting in a loose circle laughing. I sat down and took a joint from some guy I used to sit next to in math.  
  
I pulled in the smoke and felt the familiar burn in my chest, the relief as my mind stopped circling. Sunny's quick walk away from me across the garden faded and I started to laugh along with the rest of them; the girls hands in my hair.  
  
"I told you guys he was cool," her faraway voice floated around my head. It was almost like I'd never left the bay.  
  
The truth is that, in towns like Banyan Bay, everyone smokes weed. Some people do more, but most people keep it simple. There's always a party happening, because there's literally nothing else to do, and all the cops turn a blind eye because most of them are just as bad.  
  
It's not like I'm a bad person for doing it, maybe this is the person I am now.  
  
  



	16. Chapter 15 - Elmo

**Ch. 15**  
  
~ Elmo

  
  
I think that there are two types of people in the world; people who like parties, and people who don't.  
  
I keep my feet firmly planted in Category B: I hate parties. I hate them passionately, I hate them consistently, and I hate them regardless of season. I'm pretty sure I even hated parties when I was a kid. I remember as a shy primary schooler being forced to celebrate my birthday with a piñata and cake only to have all the other kids, whose parents forced them to attend, exclude me from games taking place in my own front yard.  
  
High school was pretty much more of that, except all the kids were drunk, and I excluded myself.  
  
Half an hour after Liz had dragged Melanie Grubber away from James Keller's house, I found myself in what has always been my typical 'party situation' - pushed against a wall watching drunk girls stumble past screaming, crying, or threatening to throw up. This, coupled with the fact that every song the DJ has played has been about 'tapping bitches' or 'fly wheels', made my head thump.  
  
A group of guys in clothes a little too well cut to be from the Raven Hill Mall pushed their way through the door, reeking of liquor and oozing self-importance. All dark hair and pressed button-ups, they took in the scene with some mix of interested grins and condescending raised eyebrows that I clearly wasn't rich enough to comprehend. The kind of look that says, "I'm cool with getting drunk in a house full of cheap furniture and easy girls, but I'm glad I can wake up in designer sheets tomorrow".  
  
Like I said, I think that there are two types of people in the world; people who watch suave rich guys drink straight spirits and strike up conversations with random good looking girls, and people who are those guys.  
  
I am a Type A man all the way, so I just kind of watched them for a while (that's me, always the observer) wondering what it would be like to have confidence, or female attention.  
  
From what I saw, I couldn't figure out exactly what it was about me that had kept me single all my life. Maybe my hair, which just doesn't 'flick' like theirs; or it could be my threadbare tshirts promoting bands not often heard on anything other than obscure online radio stations.  
  
Or it could be, that there are two types of people in the world; people who tell Liz Free that they've been in love with her since the first morning she showed up to deliver the Pen, that her scrapbooking and weird op-shop clothes are the most interesting things in the world, that her eyes are hazel and have flecks of gold that are so unordinary it's insane that she could ever think anything different. Those people, Category A, tell Liz that they want to take her out for coffee and dinner and show her fireworks and stars and make her smile that radiant Liz-smile every day; they tell her their secrets and drive her to school and show up at her work with flowers.  
  
And there are people who don't. Those people, the Elmo Zimmer's of the world, keep their feelings firmly bottled up inside and manage to act cool, calm and blasé whenever they see Liz.  
  
Obviously, I belong to the latter. My wildest dreams, well, they're more the former. Too bad Liz has any idea I think about her at all.  
  
My thoughts were interrupted by some girl from my Science class – Jenny Something? – running up to me, her friend in tow.  
  
"Zelmo!" she shrieked, snorting with laughter  
  
"Zelmo?" I questioned, pushing myself even closer to the wall  
  
"Youuuuu!" she threw out an arm to point at me and lost her balance, sloshing horrible discount brand champagne on my shoes  
  
Her friend laughed and pushed her arm down, speaking in a more normal but still slurry tone, "someone said Tom, like, Moy-ser or whatever is here"  
  
"You know! You guys were like…Teen Rangers together or something!" Jenny giggled  
  
"And everyone is saying he is like totally hot now!" her friend gave me some kind of terrifying eyebrow wiggle, "is he?"  
  
"Is he single?" Jenny cut in, "I think I used to totally like his drawings and stuff"  
  
"Uh…" I rubbed a hand through my hair, "I don't…know…sorry"  
  
They looked disappointed, but recovered as soon as Ke$ha came on the stereo, whining about P-Diddy.  
  
So, to clarify, I hate parties, I am not smooth with the ladies and I am tortured by the fact that the girl I am in love with thinks I'm just a friend. That usually means it's time to leave the party and get some air.  
  
I wove through the crowd and slipped out the open front door. Strolling down the front path; the thumping music was replaced with the almost-silence of reverberating windows and muffled shouts. My car came into view and I stifled a smile, shoving my hands in my pockets and stepping slowly over to where Liz was leaning against the hood of my rusty old Camry, No drunken Melanie, thank god.  
  
"Not coming inside?" I teased, "the music's great"  
  
She made a face, "I'm just…getting some air. Melanie's mum just got her, I'm fairly sure she blew a 'totally grounded for life' on the breathalyser"  
  
I laughed and leaned on the car beside her, "I think I'll wait for you before I go back in, Tom and Sunny totally ditched me…and not in that way either"  
  
She giggled, that sweet Liz-giggle, "it's good to hang out with you Elmo, I feel like we hardly ever get to see each other anymore"  
  
"It really is good" I smiled, lost for better words, "You really have no idea"


	17. Chapter 16 - Nick

**Ch. 16**

~ Nick

"So, I was like, why can't I have my eighteenth on the yacht, and dad was like, no way," Lacey is talking fast, alternating between a cigarette and the neck of a vodka bottle to fill her lips between sentences. Her face is pained as she recounts the 'totally unfair' parental ruling that lead to the celebrations of her upcoming birthday being held _at her house_. The horror.

Simon had asked me to stay with Lacey 'for a sec' at least ten minutes ago, and I was itching to get away and meet some girls I actually had a chance with.

"I need to pee, hold my drink," Lacey thrust a bottle of Grey Goose into my hand and strode away upstairs. I leaned against the wall, checked the time on my phone and took a swig.

_Fuck this._

I sauntered out into the hallway, bodies crowding around, empty bottles underfoot, trying to find Dave or Tim.

"Chelle, oh my god Chelle look!" a voice floating over the noise gets my attention

Chelle. Richelle?

It's probably just a coincidence. It's a big party, lots of names; but it could be her and all of a sudden I'm on edge looking.

" _Fifty_ _likes_ on our selfie, Sam eat your heart out _sucker_!" the slurring voice comes again and I see her, leaning against the kitchen counter

I'm no romantic, and for the record I think most chicks are more trouble than they're worth, but seeing her again is like a vision. A cloud of blonde hair falling down her back, dress so tight it could have been painted on; she has that bleary-eyed drunk stare all girls seem to get after a few shots, and she's smiling at her friends phone, laughing like her night's been made.

 _Fuck,_ that smile. That smile could turn any cynic into a regular Romeo.

I'm leaning against the doorframe, sipping too much vodka and feeling pretty damn enchanted, when she looks up. The smile drops, and her eyes widen. I know I look good, and I'm pretty blitzed, so I figure I might be able to smooth things over, make things right…

"Nick Kontellis," she gasps, her words are slurred but her eyes are murderous

"Who's _that?"_ her friend whispers way too loudly, but she isn't listening

"What are you _doing_ here?" she yells, eliciting a few giggles from a group of girls walking past

I tilt my bottle in her directing, now at least three quarters empty, and raise an eyebrow, "I'm drinking, end of term and all that"

She stares at me for a second too long before snatching the bottle out of my hand.

"Fuck you, Nick Kontellis" she spits, and storms out, her friend in tow

~ Rewind

Richelle walked toward me across the park, hair freshly washed and bouncing.

" _Such_ a good idea to do something relaxing after the weeks we've had" she sighed, "although I pretty much had to dig my way out of the house!"

"Yeah," I smiled, "my mum's losing her mind as well"

To be fair, we'd both been kidnapped by a career criminal known only as The Wolf, and been busted out by police only a few days earlier. Although, back then that kind of thing was scarily common for us.

"So, where's everyone else?" she looked around quizzically

"I, ah, didn't call them," I looked down uncomfortably, "I thought we could just…hang out"

She looked at me with an expression I couldn't quite read.

"Maybe we could see a movie, and get some lunch?" I rushed on before she could say anything, "my shout"

~ Fast Forward

I splashed cold water on my face, careful not to get any on my shirt, and looked at myself in the mirror of the Keller's ensuite bathroom.

Olive skin, dark hair, a good face – seeing Richelle had knocked me, but I needed to let it go and just do what I came here to do: have a good time.

That day, all those years ago, was such a faint memory.

I was always the cool, good looking, proud Greek kid, even at fifteen. Always so blasé, but I'd carried feelings for beautiful Richelle Brinkley around for years. The fleeting thought that I'd lost her when she was taken by The Wolf had terrified me, and I'd wanted to show her how I felt. It had taken more courage than any crime fighting I'd ever done, but within half an hour of sitting down in that movie I'd kissed her.

Those days are hard to remember; but the feeling when she kissed me back with softer lips than I could have imagined, her perfume making me dizzy – I could never shake that one.

We'd spent the whole afternoon in the back of the theatre, three movies had played through and I don't think we could have named one of them. Finally the cleaner shooed us out, and I can still see myself taking her hand softly and whispering in her ear,

"Wanna hang out at mine, my parents aren't home"

I shouldn't have asked, of course. We were friends, we were young, everything was rattling along like a runaway train – way too fast. But we'd just kissed for the first time after _years_ of tension and wondering, and I just wanted her so badly.

It was awkward, obviously; painfully awkward, but also probably the best series of moments in my young life. We even said that we loved each other, because all lovesick fifteen-year-old kids are idiots.

I know, I sound like a chump – romanticizing my first time, carrying on about a girl who clearly hates my guts. I look back in the mirror – one more splash of water and a mouthful of some foul liqueur I found in the kitchen.

"Man up, Kontellis" I hiss at my reflection

I grab my cup and push open the bathroom door, crossing the Keller's plush bedroom and out into the hallway.

"Kontellis!" Tim's voice comes from behind me and I spin around

He's grinning ear to ear, his eyes wide; a girl is swaying next to him, her head down, blonde hair cascading down her shoulders, an empty vodka bottle dangling from her fingertips.

Richelle.

"Dude," I gesture to Richelle, eyes questioning

"Isn't she a fox?" he grins and leans his head close to mine, voice hushed, "she had a few friends too, all smashed as _fuck_ – easy game, bro"

"She's basically unconscious man, maybe let her sleep it off somewhere," I say, ignoring the rage rising in my stomach

"Um, yeah dude, that's why I'm taking her upstairs," he smirks, winking at me, "to _sleep it off_ "

"C'mon, Tim, seriously" I try to take her arm, "go find some other girl"

"No, you go find some other girl Kontellis," his face is serious now, "this one's mine, go pick up your own sluts"

He walks past, pushing Richelle along next to him, her steps uncoordinated.

"Tim," I call after him, my voice louder than intended, "leave her the fuck alone"

All eyes are on us now, the din of the party suddenly hushed.

"Or what, Kontellis," Tim snarls, his face twisted into something more criminal than country-club set

I don't respond, watching him carefully. I know he's taken God-knows-what, he's wrecked, and his arm is around Richelle's waist.

A lanky stoner-looking guy lopes halfway down the stairs and leans on the railing to watch. Everyone else is still, sipping their drinks like this is a movie unfolding in front of them.

"Didn't think so, you fucking pussy," Tim laughs and turns to Richelle, "let's go upstairs babe"

I tried to take a calming breath, but the next thing I remember my fist is in Tim Warne's nose and he's rocketing backwards into a coffee table, blood rushing down over his mouth.

Screams come from all around the room as the glass table shatters under his weight; the Grey Goose bottle falls from Richelle's hand and smashes as she teeters, unsteady on her feet without Tim's body to lean on.

"You're _fucking dead_ Kontellis!" Tim screams, cradling his face, a pile of glass shards surrounds him like confetti

"Nick, go! Out the front now!" a voice in my ear yells, and a small black-haired girl runs over and tries to coax Richelle into walking

Out of the corner of my eye I see Dave helping Tim to his feet and Simon running over, face smeared with lipstick that probably didn't belong to Lacey.

"Nick, seriously, we need to go," the girl looked at me seriously

Sunny?

No time to think about it if I didn't want to go home with a black eye and a serious ambulance bill.

Ah, the fun of youth.


	18. Chapter 17 - Liz

**Ch. 17**

~ Liz

  
  


“I just don’t know” I sigh, “my mother thinks I should go into community care or psychology but I can’t decide – I mean, this is so scary, we’re almost in our last year of high school, it feels like our whole future’s on the line and…sorry, I’m rambling aren’t I?”

“No! Not at all,” Elmo smiles, “I mean, kind of, but I like hearing what you have to say”

“I guess it isn’t something you have to think about much, knowing that you have the Pen and everything – you’re pretty lucky”

“Sort of, but what if the Pen fails or something, it’s hard to know that’ll all be on my shoulders,” he sighs

“I guess,” I agree, “I feel like that too but more like – what if _I_ fail?”

“You’ll never fail, Liz,” he looks at me seriously and I look away, surprised

We lean against the car in silence for a moment.

“We should probably go inside and see how it’s all going,” I step up onto the footpath, “we’ve basically missed the whole party!”

“Well, I wouldn’t say I _missed_ it,” Elmo jokes and I slap his arm

“You never know,” I tease, “this might have been the most fun night of your life”

He smiles up at me, but immediately his expression changes to one of confusion and awe.

“What the hell…”

I turn around and can hardly believe my eyes. Tom is sprinting down the Keller’s front lawn towards us with Sunny close behind.

That part wouldn’t be so absolutely insane, if they weren’t being followed by Nick Kontellis holding a seemingly unconscious Richelle Brinkley, and chased by three good looking boys in dishevelled button-down shirts.

“Elmo, start the car!” Tom bellows down, arms flailing as he runs

“What the hell is going on?” I scream up to them

“Liz, get in the car – now!” Sunny, of course completely calm, pulls the door open as they reach the road

Elmo runs around and jumps into the driver’s seat, cranking the old Toyota twice before it turns over. Tom ducks into the front seat and slide across into the back; Sunny rolls in next to me.

“Nick, get in!” she shouts, and then Nick is jumping in with Richelle in his lap, as if it’s the most normal thing in the world and we haven’t spent years not speaking.

He slams the door and Elmo is taking off like he’s in a Police chase, his determined chin jutted forward, aggressive indie music blaring.

What was it that I said about major, life changing events? Anyway, long story short, this would be one of them.

  
  



	19. Chapter 18 - Elmo

**Ch. 18**

~ Elmo

  
  


I drove home. Sunny relayed to Liz and I what had happened inside, Tom seemed to be getting _really_ into my music in a pretty suspicious way, and Nick sat tight-lipped in the backseat.

“Is she ok?” Liz leaned across to look at Nick

“Ah,” he cleared his throat, “yeah, she just drank a _lot_ ”

“Should we take her to the hospital? She could have alcohol poisoning,” Sunny asked practically

“I think she’ll be ok to sleep it off,” Nick looked down at Richelle’s smeared makeup and damp hair, “I just don’t know where – we can’t let her parents see her like this”

“We can all go back to mine,” I offered, “Zim isn’t around this weekend”

The girls nodded. Tom looked over at me, his eyes serious.

“Elmo, do you have any Doritos at your house?”

Nick snorted with laughter.

~ Rewind 

A hot wind rolled over The Glen, high grass swaying against the clear sky of a muggy afternoon.

“I can’t believe Tom’s just…gone” Liz sniffed, eyes welling with tears

“It’s for the best,” Sunny stated, although it seemed that she was trying to convince herself as well as Liz, “and I’m sure he’ll visit…and call”

“Weird things happen in places like Banyan Bay though,” Liz cried, “we know that better than anyone! What if he becomes a drug dealer, or a murderer or something?”

“Liz, it’s Tom,” I smiled, “we know him, that isn’t going to happen”

“I don’t know – Richelle hasn’t returned any of my calls for a week, I haven’t seen Nick, and now Tom’s _gone_!” she howled, “it’s like the gang’s falling apart!”

Sunny and I had laughed. _Like that would ever happen._

~ Fast Forward 

I pulled into my driveway, the street silent, only the porch light flickering against the darkness. We shuffled out of the car, Nick and Sunny supporting a semi-conscious Richelle; I flicked on all the lights and boiled the kettle, rummaging through the pantry for some kind of food while the gang spread out around the loungeroom.

The gang. There’s something I hadn’t thought in a while. I’d gone from a reclusive nerd, to one of the guys, to being back on my own with only Shadow, Zim and my books for company. The warmth of a house full of people, the quiet murmur of conversation, the concern over what would happen next – I’d missed them more than I’d realised.

I walked in with a box of crackers and our biscuit tin in hand – Tom, of course, grabbed a handful of biscuits and sat back munching in silence. Sunny shook her head and jumped up.

“I’m gonna make a tea,” she said quickly, and paced into the kitchen. Liz, her brow furrowed with concern, followed her in.

“Oh my god,” Richelle’s muffled voice came from the corner of the lounge as she sat bolt upright

“Hey, you’re awake! Want a…” I held up the tin as she pushed herself past me, down the hallway toward the bathroom

“Better go make sure she doesn’t throw up in her hair” Nick sighed, following

I flopped down on the lounge beside Tom, who had a biscuit in each hand and one in his mouth, the only noise his chewing and the girls muted muttering as they opened cupboards to find teabags.

“Great party,” he snickered, looking at me

“Better than most,” I agreed, and took a biscuit


	20. Chapter 19 - Sunny

**Ch. 19**

~ Sunny

  
  


I focused on opening the cupboards one by one, pulling out the Zimmer’s tea caddy, finding two matching mugs in the haphazard cupboard. I tried to think of my Yoga techniques, deep breathing to calm myself down. Nothing that happened tonight matters. My gym progress matters, school matters, my family matters.

Some pothead I used to have a crush on when I was fourteen and he was a different person does not matter.

Pour the water, get the milk out, wipe the bench, put the tea away. Breathe. Liz sat quietly, watching.

“Peter Lincoln asked me out,” I said, finally, as I handed her a mug, “before the end of term. But I said no”

She looked at me, head tilted, worried eyes.

“I said no, because I thought I wouldn’t have time for a relationship with school and everything,” I could feel my lip wobble and took a deep breath, “but I’m worried I just shut people out so I don’t get hurt”

Liz sipped her tea, waiting. Like she knew how much I had on my mind.

“What if I’m just like my parents? What if I end up alone because I’m selfish and self-involved? I love the things I do alone but I want someone to want to be with me eventually,” I sighed, trying to stop the swell of emotions building up with every admission.

“When I was younger,” I sniff, “I thought Tom liked me. I think I kind of liked him too, we were all so young so who knows what that even means. But then he just left, completely left. Like my dad”

Liz put down her mug, reaching her hand across the bench to take mine.

“Sometimes I feel like everybody leaves,” I can feel my face crumbling, my voice cracking, “and it must be something about me, that I’m never worth staying for”

I hate myself for crying, for being a typical girl with dad-issues or abandonment issues or whatever the hell they are.

I feel Liz’s arms around my shoulders, her head next to mine.

“That isn’t true, Sunny,” she said gently, “your parents have more to them than that, and so do you. People leave for their own reasons – it’s just hard when they don’t think about how it affects people around them”

I think of the bruise on Tom’s arm on that cool morning all those years ago, and I know she’s right. I can’t understand why it’s so hard to just rationally deal with this. I don’t understand why it affects me so much.

I sit back and wipe my eyes, sniffling, “you know, all the time he was gone I wondered what would be different about him – I _never_ thought he’d come back and look like this and be a…stoner”

“It’s kind of hard to process, huh?” Liz laughed

I nodded, “this whole night’s been hard to process. First Tom, now Nick _and_ Richelle? I don’t’ even know what’s happening!”

“Me either really,” she sighed, “but it’s kind of cool, don’t you think, all of us here together? It kind of feels like it’s all for a reason”

I laughed, Liz and her positivity. I just hoped she was right about this.


End file.
